


Run Me Like a River

by wildlingoftarth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs in a Car, F/M, Jaime/Brienne Monthly Madness, Oral Sex, Wilderness, mouth-fucking march
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23198530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildlingoftarth/pseuds/wildlingoftarth
Summary: Jaime speaks again, his tone more serious. “Do you regret it?”She shakes her head, then realizes he’s watching the road and can’t see her. “No,” she replies. “Do you?”“No.”“Good.” She studies his profile, the sharp jaw dusted with graying stubble, prominent nose, emerald-green eyes, lips she knows are soft and warm and extremely talented. A sudden wave of boldness rushes over her, encouraged by the fact she only has another week before they part ways, most likely never to see each other again.She lays a hand on his thigh, her fingers sneaking past the hem of his shorts. He draws a breath and shifts in his seat, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 28
Kudos: 157
Collections: J/B Monthly Madness: March 2020





	Run Me Like a River

**Author's Note:**

> For Mouth-Fucking March.
> 
> From an as-yet-unwritten (and will probably always be unwritten, knowing me) ‘verse in which Jaime is a wilderness guide leading Brienne and her friends on a tour. I just can’t stop putting these two into vacation/nature settings.
> 
> Title is from the song “River” by Bishop Briggs.

Brienne shuts her eyes against the spray of water coming over the side of the raft as they shoot down the river. Her heart races and arm muscles strain as she paddles against the rapids, the whoops and hollers of the other occupants of the boat bringing a smile to her face despite the physical exertion.

“Forward paddle! Hard!” Jaime’s commanding voice booms over the rushing water from where he steers at the back of the raft. Brienne and her friends comply, using all their strength to propel the raft forward through another Class IV rapid. They bounce and jostle as they shoot around boulders and over waterfalls, the water crashing over the sides and swirling around their feet.

Jaime continues to call out commands from the back, directing the riders to steer, paddle or hold off depending on the section of river. After a particularly rough section, the river flattens out and stills, and everyone on board takes a collective deep breath.

Once they grasp that they’d made it through some of the toughest rapids in the country relatively unscathed, the giddiness sets in. Brienne throws her head back and laughs, and Margaery leans over to throw her arms around her. Sansa and Renly embrace in the front of the boat, then turn around to envelop the other two in a group hug.

After being released, Brienne looks over her shoulder at Jaime. He is smiling at them – at _her_ – not the smug, cocksure grin that had made her instantly hate him upon their first meeting a week ago, but a genuine, megawatt smile that makes her heart squeeze alarmingly in her chest. She turns away to hide the red of her cheeks and to take in the sights in front of her – the river and sky are so blue, the pines so green, and the clouds so white and fluffy that the scene looks like a painting.

Brienne and her friends have been taking these yearly summer trips since college, alternating who gets to pick the destination. They groan good-naturedly when Brienne’s turn comes along, since she inevitably suggests something like two weeks of rafting and camping in the Riverlands instead of a posh all-inclusive resort like the others prefer. But their protests have gotten weaker over the years, and she thinks they’re actually starting to _enjoy_ her trips, mostly because of moments like this.

The raft slips smoothly along the river now, the current just strong enough that they can sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride to the landing point. Brienne tips her head back, closes her eyes and lets the sun beat down on her face and dry her soaked clothes. She finds herself disappointed when the raft bumps up against the bank of the river and Jaime directs them out and onto the shore.

They heave the raft over their heads and start the walk back to the vehicles. Jaime insists on walking directly in front of Brienne, his damp white T-shirt leaving very little to the imagination and making it exceedingly difficult to concentrate on the uneven ground in front of her. His shirt rides up, exposing a golden strip of skin just above his waistband, and her hands tingle with the memory of that skin under them last night.

To say they’d gotten off on the wrong foot would be an understatement – she found his overconfidence irritating, and because she has always been terrible at hiding her feelings, he knew this and doubled down on his instigation of her. She didn’t want to admit that the way she treated him might have something to do with the fact that he was so gorgeous it was almost painful to be around him.

But the outdoors has its way of lowering the walls between people, and after several long hikes, difficult climbs, challenging paddles and intimate nights around the campfire, the teasing had become less hostile, the glances more heated, the touches more purposeful.

It all came to a head last night. The group had been sitting around the fire, drinking, telling stories and laughing, when the others began to quietly drift off to their tents. Before Brienne knew it, she and Jaime were alone. Their conversation veered quickly from pleasantries into topics neither of them spoke about willingly very often, but Brienne had come to feel inexplicably _safe_ with him.

He’d brushed a tear from her cheek after she’d told him about her brother, and then…she doesn’t remember who leaned in first, but she does know that before she knew what was happening, their mouths were crashing together, tongues intertwining, hands clutching at each other. All the tension that had built up between them during the past week had exploded in a moment, and she was practically on his lap before he growled, “ _My tent?_ ” in her ear.

Brienne’s heart quickens at the thought of what they’d done in that tent – it was so unlike her, but it had felt so good and so _right_ in the moment that she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Then this morning came, and they’d had to get up and out of camp too early to talk about what had happened. Not as if she could forget – she feels the memory of it all over her body, from the burn of his beard on her neck to the ache between her legs.

They arrive back at the vehicles – because of the size of their group, they’ve been driving one Jeep and one truck with a trailer attached to pull their supplies. Brienne has avoided being alone in the truck with Jaime thus far, always volunteering to drive the Jeep, but today, she asks Renly to drive. She ignores the raised eyebrow and the little “hmm” sound he makes at her and walks over to the truck, where Jaime is securing the raft with bungee cords. His fingers slow as she approaches, and he looks at her curiously, but the flicker of heat in his eyes is unmistakable.

“Actually interacting with me in public? Are you feeling okay?” She slaps his hand away when he moves to raise it to her forehead.

“Shut up,” she says in a serious tone, though she can’t stop the corners of her mouth from quirking upward. “Can I ride with you today? I think we should probably…”  
  
“Talk?” he finishes, and he somehow manages to suffuse that one word with so much sexual tension that Brienne’s face heats despite herself.

“Yes. Talk.” Her voice comes out lower and breathier than she’d expected, and she knows he notices too. His eyes flick down to her lips before he nods and goes back to securing the raft.

Brienne gets into the truck just before Jaime and wills her heart to slow down. He slides in next to her a few moments later, and they make quick eye contact before he starts up the engine and follows Renly out onto the road.

They’re silent for a beat before they both blurt, “I’ve never done that before,” at the same time. They laugh nervously, some of the tension dissipating, and Brienne motions for him to continue.

“I need you to know that I’ve never done anything like that with any of my clients. I’m not out here scamming on a new woman every two weeks. And I’m sorry if…”

Brienne shakes her head quickly. “Don’t apologize. I was just as willing a participant as you. And I also don’t normally… _fuck_ people I just met.” She can hardly get the words out, as if he hadn’t just been inside her 12 hours earlier.

“Well. First time for everything, I guess,” he says with a chuckle, a low rumbling sound that shoots straight to her lower belly.

Jaime speaks again, his tone more serious. “Do you regret it?”

She shakes her head, then realizes he’s watching the road and can’t see her. “No,” she replies. “Do you?”

“No.”

“Good.” She studies his profile, the sharp jaw dusted with graying stubble, prominent nose, emerald-green eyes, lips she knows are soft and warm and extremely talented. A sudden wave of boldness rushes over her, encouraged by the fact she only has another week before they part ways, most likely never to see each other again.

She lays a hand on his thigh, her fingers sneaking past the hem of his shorts. He draws a breath and shifts in his seat, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

Her fingers move in slow circles against the soft skin of his inner thigh, and she feels strangely powerful as she watches the bulge in his shorts grow. “Do you want it to happen again?”

“Yes,” he replies, more breath than noise. She slides her hand further into his shorts, her fingers grazing the seam of his underwear, and his thighs part slightly.

Brienne leans toward him and pulls her hand out of his shorts, prompting a small sound of disappointment that turns into an _oh_ when her fingers begin to work at his fly. His breath stutters as she frees his cock from his underwear, gripping its hard length in her hand. She hadn’t properly seen it the night before, and it seems strange to say it’s _pretty_ , but that’s the word that comes into her mind – smooth and pink and, she knows from experience, just the right size.

She lowers her head and gives in to the desire to lick the pearl of moisture that’s collected on its tip. “Oh, gods, _fuck_ ,” he moans as she swirls her tongue, then takes him into her mouth, as far as she can with the center console in between them. She hears the cruise control _click_ and feels his foot lift from the gas pedal.

Jaime’s right hand moves away from the steering wheel and she tenses for a moment, worried he’s going to begin pushing down. But he just lays it, whisper-light, on the back of her head, his fingertips gently carding through her hair.

The whimpers and moans emanating from him, the way she can tell he’s fighting to keep his hips still, send her blood rushing between her legs, but she ignores it to focus on him. She slides her mouth up and down his length, taking him as deep as she can until she feels him brush the back of her throat.

He gasps her name and she pushes past the slight discomfort, her mind emptying of any thoughts other than making him come undone. She squeezes the base of his cock and continues to bob up and down on his long shaft, feeling him growing even harder under her tongue, tasting the moisture leaking from him. He tastes of salt and musk and _man_ , and she can’t get enough of it. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks powerfully, willing him to let go, to fill her in every way.

Jaime’s fingers tighten slightly in her hair. “Brienne…” he pants, “I’m going to…” The end of the statement dissolves into a guttural moan as she pumps her hand up and down, redoubling her efforts as if she is trying to suck the life out of him.

He removes his hand from her head and grips the steering wheel with white knuckles just as he roars his release, his cock pulsing as hot liquid spills down her throat. She swallows him down and doesn’t release him until he begins softening under her tongue, his moans fading to quiet gasps.

Brienne lifts her head and drags the back of her hand across her mouth, smirking like a woman who knows what she’s good at. Jaime’s eyes are wide, his chest still heaving. “That was a surprise. And another thing I have _definitely_ never done before,” he says, a little breathlessly.

She laughs and reaches over to scratch her nails along his scalp, drawing a different kind of moan from him. She licks her lips, the salty-thick feel of him still on her tongue.

“First time for everything, I guess.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know what it says about me that I saw the March prompt and immediately thought ROADHEAD! 
> 
> PSA: Oral sex while driving is dangerous. Do not try this at home.
> 
> My headcanon (heh) for this is that Jaime finally got so fed up with the Lannisters’ bullshit that he just picked up and left to go be a wilderness guide. He spends winters in the North and spring, summer and fall in the Riverlands.


End file.
